The day of the ritual.
I woke up before the sun did. For the first time in forever, I didn't need Liam to drag me out of bed, mumbling and whining. Anxiety had seeped into my veins like ice water, keeping me up half the night, and now jolting me out of sleep even before my alarm buzzed. My chest felt heavy, like someone had placed a brick over it. Today was the day. The day I was going to perform a ritual that could either save me or destroy me.
When I sat up, rubbing my temples and staring at the soft morning light filtering through the curtains, I heard footsteps.
Liam.
He stepped in, already dressed in a grey half-sleeve shirt tucked neatly into his black work trousers, his sleeves rolled up like always. He blinked, surprised. "You're... awake?"
I gave him a half-hearted smile. "Miracles do happen, right?"
He raised an eyebrow and leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. "Okay, who are you and what have you done to Emma Blanders?"
I rolled my eyes but laughed. "Just feeling... nervous. Today feels weird."
He narrowed his gaze but said nothing. Instead, he walked over, ruffled my already-messy hair and said, "Come out. You'll want to see this."
I followed him to the kitchen, still in my oversized sleep tee, only to stop dead at the sight.
Mom.
She stood at the stove, her police uniform slightly crumpled, her hair pulled back in a low ponytail. The aroma of her famous spicy scrambled eggs hit my nose like a warm hug.
"Mom?" I whispered.
She turned and smiled. "Morning, sweetheart. Thought I'd visit. You sounded tired last night over the phone. And you always look like a lost puppy when I'm not around."
I blinked fast. "You came all the way here just to make breakfast?"
She raised a spatula. "Yes. And to make sure my baby girl eats properly before she saves the world."
Liam gave her a "really?" look, but she ignored him.
We sat together, all three of us, and for a moment, the world felt... normal. Mom even made my tea the way I loved—with extra cardamom. Her presence made me feel like a kid again, but I didn't tell her anything about what I was planning. She thought I was just anxious because of regular teen stuff. And I intended to keep it that way.
After breakfast, she gave me a quick kiss on the forehead. "I have to run. Duty calls."
I clung to her for an extra second. She smelled like lavender soap and station paperwork. "I missed you."
She softened. "I missed you more."
Then she was gone.
Liam walked me to the car. "Ready for school?"
I nodded, hugging my bag tightly. "Totally."
He dropped me off at the school gate. I waved until his car turned the corner and disappeared. But I never went inside.
Instead, I turned the other way and ran.
Through narrow streets, through side paths only I knew, until I reached the edge of the forest. Our secret cabin stood just beyond the tall grass, hidden like a forgotten story. The banyan tree loomed nearby, its roots twisting into the earth like ancient fingers.
I checked my phone.
Group chat:
Me: Not coming to school today guys. I'm down with something. Fever or a virus. Just need rest.
Chloe: Oh no, Em! Take care!!
Peter: Do you need anything? I can bring notes.
Edward: Hope you feel better soon.
Me: Thanks. Love you all.
I put my phone on silent and dropped it into my bag.
The air was thick. Still. Like the trees were holding their breath.
I reached the old cabin just as the sun dipped behind the treetops, bathing the forest in a dull orange hue. My chest tightened, heartbeat echoing in my ears. This was it—the moment I'd prepared for, feared, dreamt of, and avoided all at once. My boots crunched against the dry leaves as I approached the banyan tree. Its roots twisted like veins in the soil, ancient and knowing. Its branches creaked slightly in the breeze, like they were whispering to me.
I laid out everything in a circle just like the book had instructed—salt lines, protective symbols etched into the ground, the crimson-stained ribbon, the small candle I'd made myself, and the pages… the cursed, sacred pages I had found buried inside that hollow library wall, where no one dared to go.
My hands trembled as I opened the book. I traced the symbols with my finger first—learning their sharp curves and syllables. Then, slowly, my mouth formed the first word.
Nothing.
Then I spoke the next line. And the next.
The air around me pulsed. A low ringing began in my ears.
And suddenly, Amelia's voice whispered into my mind.
> "You foolish little girl... do you really think you can erase me?"
My knees buckled.
I gritted my teeth and clenched my fists. "You don't belong here. This body is mine. This life is mine. You've stolen enough."
> "Oh, but I've only just begun. Do you know what happens when you tear something out from its roots? You bleed. I will make sure you bleed, Emma."
"SHUT UP!" I screamed, the sound echoing through the silent woods.
The candle's flame flared higher—blue now—and the salt circle sizzled. A gust of wind blew against me, even though the air was still just moments ago. I closed my eyes and pressed my hands together in front of my chest, pushing all my energy into the words of the final chant.
> "In my blood, my will, my name—I cast thee out. I sever the thread, I shut the gate. Be gone, Amelia!"
The wind roared. I felt her inside me—clawing, screaming, resisting. Pain stabbed through my head, my ribs, my hands.
Tears spilled from my eyes, not from sadness, but sheer force. My nose bled. My ears rang. I could feel her trying to anchor herself again—images of her past flickered through my mind like a thousand knives—her rage, her heartbreak, her death. I almost felt sorry.
But then I remembered her smile when she laughed while hurting others in my visions. She wasn't innocent. She was haunting me. She was using me.
I grabbed the ribbon and burned it inside the flame.
> "YOU. ARE. DONE."
I spoke the last word like a command from my soul.
A final gust of wind exploded outward from the circle.
And then… everything went still.
My legs collapsed beneath me.
I didn't hit the ground though—someone caught me.
I caught a glimpse through blurry vision. A familiar face. Messy hair. A panicked voice.
"Emma!"
Liam.
He was panting, holding me upright, his hands gripping my shoulders like I would disappear if he let go.
"Emma, look at me. What did you do? What's happening?!"
My mouth opened, but no words came. My head fell back. My body gave up.
Darkness.
---
The Hospital – Later
Beeping. Faint.
That sterile smell. That stinging light behind my eyelids.
My eyes fluttered open slowly. The ceiling was white.
I was alive.
A dull ache filled my body like I'd run a thousand miles barefoot.
I turned my head.
Chloe.
Peter.
Liam.
Even Edward.
They were all there.
Liam was sitting beside me, clutching my hand like he was afraid I'd slip away again. Chloe had red eyes like she'd been crying. Peter just looked… wrecked.
I tried to speak, but my throat was dry.
Peter leaned forward. "Don't speak. It's okay. You're okay now."
Chloe wiped her eyes and half-laughed. "You scared the absolute hell out of us, Em. What were you thinking? Were you trying to summon the ghost of Shakespeare?"
I let out the weakest laugh. "Not exactly…"
Liam stayed quiet. But his hand never let go.
Peter finally whispered, "What happened, Emma?"
And I blinked, pushing back tears.
"I think… I finally fought her."
And then I closed my eyes again.
Not because I was tired.
But because I finally felt lighter.
---